


Checking In

by Pinkmink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Cell Phones, Coda, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Post S12E3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmink/pseuds/Pinkmink
Summary: The phone on his nightstand buzzed, stark in the silence of the room. He was quick to grab it, feeling like a scorned lover with the way he hoped it was Mary. Hoped she needed him for something - anything. A text read too brightly on the screen: Castiel: Checking in. Rowena had Lucifer and banished him. Working with Crowley. How are you?*****Post S12 episode 3 - The FoundryLittle coda after Mary drops that bomb - because profound bond helps everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was one hell of an ending to an episode. I want to give all of the Emmys to all three of them, but the image of Dean, this strong, badass hunter, shrinking away from his mother - it haunted me. I needed a little coda to sleep that night, so I wrote one.
> 
> Beta'd and art created by the wonderful rosie_berber, who is the very best to watch episodes of SPN with, despite being two time zones and many miles away <3

 

Dean stared into darkness. Unremarkable, pitch darkness. When your bedroom is in the middle of an underground bunker, it’s amazing how dark it can truly get. He doesn’t like it - years of sleeping in motel rooms have made it near impossible for him to relax in such circumstances. He’d never admit it, but sometimes he leaves his phone flashlight on, facing the opposite wall, just to have that familiar diffused light of a hotel parking lot, streaming through blinds that wouldn't quite shut. Sometimes he left the scratch of his FM radio on low, just enough to sound like the swiftness of a passing car.

But nothing felt comfortable now, in the hours since his mother’s departure. It felt hollow, that place within where he’d begun to embrace her presence. Shattering the building acceptance that for once in his miserable life something truly wonderful had taken place. And he fought now with himself, years of overpowering self-loathing attempting to convince him that it was his fault. She left because he wasn’t good enough. Just like Dad. Just like Sam.

The phone on his nightstand buzzed, stark in the silence of the room. He was quick to grab it, feeling like a scorned lover with the way he hoped it was Mary. Hoped she needed him for something - anything.

A text read too brightly on the screen:

Castiel: _Checking in. Rowena had Lucifer and banished him. Working with Crowley. How are you?_

Despite his ache, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Only Cas could drop a bomb like that and follow it with something so casual. He swiped his thumb across the screen, opening his message app to respond.

Dean: _Rowena huh? She’s a spitfire. How’d she manage that?_

The application showed three tiny dots, indicating that Castiel was responding right away. He must be somewhere quiet. Dean could imagine him standing outside of that truck on the side of the road, the midnight air dewy in his dark hair, the contour of his cheekbones sharpened by the bright streetlamp.

Castiel: _She said she combined some spells but we aren’t certain how long it will last. Trying to find him while he's low on power. It’s proving to be difficult._

Dean: _And you’ve teamed up with Crowley? You realize this means you can’t give me shit about working with him anymore, right?_

…

Castiel: _Dean, I never gave you “shit”._

Dean: _I’m kidding Cas. Just - you know. Watch your back with him. Still king of hell and all that._

Cas: _Of course, I will. How’s your mother?_

Dean’s heart seized in his throat. He could lie of course, and part of him wanted to. The expression of determination he saw in Castiel as he left the bunker a few days before was actually heartening, as much as he hated to see him leave. It was good to see Cas in a fighting spirit, with the righteous look of heaven shining in those stormy eyes. He hesitated only in burdening Castiel with a distraction from a mission Dean knew Cas needed to see through. But in the end, Castiel would know he was hiding something - Cas always knew. So he played it off, because Dean Winchester is nothing if not a martyr for those he loves.

Dean: _She took a sabbatical. I’m sure she’ll be home soon._

The three dots didn’t appear right away, and Dean couldn’t help but be knocked down another peg by that. Eventually he was going to have to learn not to wear his stupid heart on his sleeve, but tonight wasn't likely to be that magical time. He turned off his screen and stared back into darkness, letting his hurt grip at his insides.

The phone ringing shocked him, and he gasped a little as he answered it. “Hello?”

“What do you mean, sabbatical?” Castiel’s tone was frantic. “What happened?”

“She, uh,” The room grew warmer, somehow, and he kicked at his blanket to free a leg. “Uh, she needed some time. I guess. Away?”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know, Cas. She said something about heaven and how she missed Dad and - she just left.” Dean tempered his voice, pinching the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. “I don’t think she had a destination planned out - she made it very clear she just wanted to be away from us.”

“I - I’m sorry,” Castiel’s tone changed, sounding somber and further away. “I tried to tell her that she belonged with you both, but I fear I said something wrong.”

“What? When?”

“Before I left. She asked me about my transition from heaven to earth, how long it took me to feel like I belonged. I answered her truthfully,” Cas sighed into the phone. “I told her I’m not sure that I ever have. But that she did. She must not have understood...”

Dean shut his eyes as a lump formed in his throat. No, it wasn’t Cas’s fault. But dammit, why don’t the people closest to him understand how much he needs them around?

“I will leave right now, and track her down.” Dean could hear a rustle, as if Cas was moving from wherever he’d been standing. “I’ll start driving - I can be-”

“Cas - stop.” Dean felt a stray teardrop escape, running down his cheek to meet the wet heat at his nose. It felt like he’d been half crying for hours. “She needs space, man. It wasn’t you.”

“Dean, I know what your mother means to you-”

“But do you know what you mean to me?” Dean felt the words rush past his lips before he could really control them. “Belong, dude? Of course you belong! You’re family, Cas! How else can I say that?!”

There was a beat on the other end of the phone - the rustling had stopped, and he could hear quiet breaths from the angel. No real sound to indicate how his little speech had been received.

“She didn’t leave because she doesn’t love you, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was even and soft. Dean wanted to melt into it, shamelessly pressing the phone even closer to his ear. “You have taken very good care of her since she’s been back. She will come back to you both - you know how jarring it is to be resurrected. Some things cannot be helped.”

“I know man, I know.” He scrubbed a hand against his face. “It just - sucks.”

“Indeed.”

They were quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, knowing that Castiel paused as he did, being present for each other in that moment, brought him some measure of relief. Just to know that even if he wasn't with him, Cas was still a touchstone. He wasn’t really sure when in all these years he’d become that to him, but there it is. And he was grateful.

“Thanks, Cas. For listening.”

“You know I always enjoy our talks, Dean.” He could hear the small grin in his voice. “I just - had a feeling something was amiss.”

“Profound bond in action.” Dean huffed, stretching and sighing. “And hey, I mean it. You belong. So quit saying that.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight.”

Dean hung up, letting his fingers linger over the contact screen, staring at the angel's name. His mind began to wander, considering the strange possibilities of Castiel somehow being able to sense his emotions. How long had that been going on? And more importantly - why did it bring him a sense of comfort instead of concern?

Letting his weary mind rest, he rolled over to set his phone down, switching on the flashlight. Plenty of time to stew on that later, but he had a feeling he was just going to let it be what it is, and enjoy it. Maybe he didn't always have to do everything the hard way.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like it, share how completely screwed up this episode left you. Lets all wallow in the sad together.


End file.
